#sorry mobile users i know readmores on asks don't work for you D:

[damienthepious]

:eyes: 7. “Please don’t go out alone.” for rad bouquet??

i am. so sorry. that this took as long as it did. I am just so sorry and i have no excuse. gosh i hope you enjoy it anyway. Uhhhhh happy Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday!!!

Turnabout

[ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Rilla

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday. Prompt Fill, Established Relationship, Protectiveness, Arguing (mild), Play Fighting, (sort of…. i have no idea how to tag this. as usual)

Summary: Rilla may not be a knight, may not be a magician slash architect, may not be a warrior, but she is more than competent in her own particular way, and certain people would do very well to remember that fact.

Notes: So this was uhhhh SUPPOSED to be for a hurt/comfort fic, which this didn’t exactly turn into. I like what it is, but it’s certainly not H/C, so, sorry about that part also???

~

Arum leaps from the portal with his knives out and swinging, and the three-foot centipede is in multiple wriggling segments on the ground before he even lands, panting and wild-eyed.

Rilla stands from her defensive crouch, dropping the packets of explosive powder back into the pocket of her skirt, loosening her grip on the short knife at her belt. “Oh,” she says, blinking and amused as Arum spins to face her. “Uh. Thanks, I guess?”

“Amaryllis, are you hurt? As soon as the Keep told me, I-”

“I’m fine,” Rilla says, her eyebrows dipping in confusion as Arum scuttles closer and sheathes two knives so he can touch her shoulder, tip her chin up and scan over her face as if looking for very minute cuts, for some obscured injury. “Arum, I’m fine. It didn’t even touch me.”

He exhales, dropping his hands away from her, and then he sheathes the other two knives and presses his lips tight together with a visibly awkward tilt. “Good,” he says, and then he gestures to the portal. “Good, I’m glad to hear it. Now, come back to the Keep and-”

“Uh, hang on a sec,” she says, not moving. “I’m not done out here.”

“What?” He scowls. “Of course you are, you were attacked. Clearly, it is not safe for you out here.”

“Arum.” Rilla feels the frustration bubbling up in her, the indignation, and she takes a deep breath to try to mollify it because- “It’s very sweet of you to worry about me, but I’m not just going to pack up and run off home the second things get a little bit dangerous. Besides,” she shrugs, gesturing to the remains of the bug creature, which has long since stopped wriggling, “it’s dealt with, right?”

“Amaryllis, if there was one such danger, it is impossible to tell what other threats may have slipped through the swamp’s defenses. I cannot guarantee your safety, and so I must ask, Amaryllis-” he grits his teeth, raises a hand towards her, “please don’t come out here alone. It is too dangerous for you.”

The indignation boils back up, and Rilla has to clench her jaw for a moment. “Okay, alright, you do know that I’m not actually some fragile little waif, right?” She raises an eyebrow, cocking her hip out and crossing her arms over her chest. “Just because Damien is the knight doesn’t mean that I’m incapable of taking care of myself.”

Arum shakes his head. “I didn’t say-”

“I need to go out into the jungle around my hut for research and supplies all the time,” Rilla says, “and honestly? At this point I bet that the Swamp of Titan’s Blooms is probably safer for me. At least out here I know that there are some protections, even if they aren’t infallible.”

Arum blinks, frowning. “Well- be that as it may, it is still not advisable for you to simply wander-”

“I wasn’t wandering, Arum, I was looking for samples of your modified water lilies. Like the ones right over there.” She points, but Arum does not look.

“If you were hurt out here in my swamp it would be my fault,” Arum snaps, his tail thrashing behind him like a loose ribbon in a windstorm. “I refuse to be complicit in your harm, even indirectly.”

“I can take care of myself,” Rilla says again, her tone tight and pointed.

“You are being unreasonable,” Arum growls, and then he reaches for her wrist. “Come, I have had enough of-”

Rilla could let him grab her, could take this argument back to the Keep and try to talk this thing through.

A demonstration feels like it will be a more effective way to prove her point, though. More satisfying, too.

Rilla tilts her body, taking a half step back so that when Arum reaches for her he misses, overextending his arm, and she pulls a small packet from her pocket and tears it open, closing her eyes just before the flash of bright light and the bloom of smoke explode out.

That particular sample is a joint project she and Marc have been back-and-forth working on, an explosive that prioritizes brightness over force, effective for blinding and stunning creatures and people, and the new smoke effect is helpful in extending the confusion as the target slowly regains their sight.

She doesn’t give Arum time for that, though.

He stumbles, a look of almost comical confusion on his face as he furiously blinks and rubs his hands over his eyes, and Amaryllis sweeps her leg in a maneuver she learned from Damien, knocking Arum’s own legs out from under him and sending him squawking to the dirt. Before he can deal with that she draws the knife at her belt and drops on top of him, sinking the blade into the ground just beside his head in an extravagantly pointed gesture.

Arum’s vision is still swimming as he hears the thunk of the weapon piercing the ground, as he feels familiar hands on his wrists, and he’s too stunned to fight against the pressure as they’re lifted above his head.

And then she is pinning him.

Amaryllis is pinning him, her hips pressing heavy and inarguable against his own, her forearms deliberately crossing over all four of his wrists, held over his head, and as his vision recovers she is grinning a predator’s grin down at him, her dark eyes full of gleeful fire.

“See?” she murmurs, her body hot, hot above his own. “Exactly like I tried to tell you. I can take care of myself just fine, even against a big, strong, dangerous monster, Arum.”

“I-” he pants out a breath, distracted by the heat of her body and the heat of her tone, shocked beyond coherency. “Amaryllis-”

“I’m not fragile. I’m not defenseless. And while I appreciate that you care about my safety, Arum, it’s not helpful for you to try to corral me away from anything that could possibly be threatening.” She presses his arms into the leaf-strewn dirt, leaning close enough to murmur directly, distractingly into his ear. “If I kept away from anyone dangerous, I would certainly never have any fun in the bedroom, now, would I?”

“Amaryllis,” Arum barks, frill flaring as his hands flex.

“Do you get my point now, Arum?” she asks, some of the fire retreating from her expression, her eyebrow raising in fond amusement.

“I…” he pants out a breath, twisting slightly beneath her, and her weight and the way she’s pressing on his wrists make any further movement difficult. “I believe- I believe you have made yourself clear, Amaryllis,” he hisses, impressed despite himself, embarrassed to be caught so entirely off guard.

She smiles. Her grip loosens immediately, and she leans down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Arum hisses again, and he drops two hands to grip her sides, the other two tangling in her hair, a small noise of surprised pleasure slipping from him.

“Sorry to knock you down like that,” she says against his lips, though she sounds more amused than apologetic, “but you weren’t really listening to what I was telling you, so.”

He leans up, nuzzling her face with his snout until she kisses him again. “I… I apologize as well. I should know better, I think,” he says with a wry laugh, “than to underestimate you, my fierce little flower.”

“You really should,” she says, sticking her nose in the air with mock smugness. She sits back, pulling him up with her and retrieving her knife to stick back in its sheath.

He watches her, intent, as she stands and readjusts her skirts, still smiling. “I once asked you, Amaryllis, how many hats it was that you wore. The longer I know you…” he stares up at her, tilting his head as he searches for the words. “The longer I know you, the more I understand how intensely correct Damien is, to call you a genius.”

“Oh, quit that,” she says with a laugh, leaning down to help lift Arum to his feet. “Not that I don’t appreciate the flattery-”

Once he is standing he pulls, gathering Amaryllis to his chest and holding her close. “I expect that I will spend the rest of my life trying to discover every nuance of your skill, you brilliant creature,” he purrs into her hair, delighted to feel her laughing against him. “I find that I am quite looking forward to it.”

“Yeah, well,” she says, cheeks flushed and grinning. “I’ll do my best to keep you on your toes.”